March 7, 2022
Rafadalia Island, Unknown.
I stared up at the sky, my vision clouded with dust. I was in pain, I didn't see nor hear Conner, well, I didn't see much of anything, really. I flipped around onto my stomach, wincing at the pain that seared through my side, and used my arms to push me up. I turned around, inspecting the piece of shrapnel piercing my skin just below my rib cage. On impulse, I yanked it out, a small trail of blood began to flow from the wound, but surprisingly, I wasn't greeted with any pain. I ripped a piece of fabric off what was left of my overcoat to soak up the blood. I turned back to the island entrance, the guards probably heard the explosion and would be here shortly with the Guardian at their heels, time to go, I thought to myself.
The lurid clouds that continually circled the Wishing Stone Spire slowly drifted up and down, brushing the rocks with their wispy ends. A slight greenish tint seemed to reflect on the clouds from the polluted water, spoiling the magical view. I was getting distracted, there was nothing even remotely beautiful here, not after you've been here as long as I have. I should probably explain why, where, and what I'm doing here. I'll begin, it started in Colorado, with a cemetery.
YOU ARE READING
The Book of Ditherlon
FantezieA thrilling tale of family betrayal and a self-destructing fantasy world, which can only be saved by Amanda Flinch, a typical 16 year old girl that doesn't think she's up to the demanding task. But when her brother leaves into the world, she has no...
